All You Could Talk About
by Letters to Ghosts
Summary: "But even alone together on top of the world in that Ferris wheel with George Strait singing 'I Cross my Heart,' all you could talk about was Deacon." (Written for the November Nashville Fanfic Challenge.)


They had almost reached the top when it happened. There was a loud grinding noise, followed by shrieks of surprise as the Ferris wheel came to a brutal stop. The cars were sent swinging back and forth. Rayna gripped the safety rail and glanced at Luke who seemed weirdly unperturbed by the whole situation. After a few minutes of confusion, a man on the ground started shouting up to them. She thought she made out the words "remain calm" and "looking into the issue," although it was hard to hear over the noise of the fair and the George Strait's audience cheering at the first notes of "Amarillo by Morning."

"Well, it could be worse," Luke remarked, his pleased grin in full display. He jutted his chin at the concert stage, "Looks like we now have the best seats in the house."

If this was the universe trying to send Rayna a message, it hadn't aimed at subtlety. By the time George Strait launched into "I Cross my Heart," she suspected Luke had started a silent prayer for the wheel's malfunction never to be fixed.

Rayna, on the other hand, was still too furious to enjoy the moment. She wished it was Deacon sitting next to her; he would have been stuck while she could have unleashed her anger on him. Because he had promised. He had looked straight at her, and he had promised it was just one beer, he would be back before she was asleep. Not only hadn't he been back in the morning, he was still nowhere to be found by the time she and the rest of the band had hopped on stage.

"Rayna?"

She realized she'd zoned out for a minute because she had no idea what Luke was last talking about. "Sorry, I was... distracted."

He cleared his throat then, visibly pondering whether to ask it or shut up. It was a can of worms he knew he might not want to open. "You're worried about him?"

"No... no," she half-lied.

Her new manager, Bucky Dawes, had wondered if they should start calling the hospitals. Rayna, however, had learned her lesson by now. In a few hours, Deacon would be back with a lame excuse and a bunch of empty promises.

"I'm not worried something happened to him _today_," she explained, "but I _am_ worried about him, I mean—"

She stopped when she realized it was probably the last thing Luke wanted to talk about. He was enough of a good guy to pretend it wasn't and to ask Rayna what she meant.

"Deacon's got... stuff... he deals with. It's been getting worse lately, and I don't know how to help him, and it's starting to... scare me." She paused. "But I love him, I _love_ him, and–"

She couldn't finish her sentence as the Ferris wheel began moving again, with cheers and applause erupting from most of the cars. It seemed the universe had reconsidered, after all, and had taken pity on Luke's heart.

They spent the rest of the ride in an uncomfortable silence. When they finally got their feet back on solid ground, Luke looked almost relieved.

Waiting for them next to the exit was Deacon, hands in pockets, shifting back and forth in his boots. Luke sensed it was a good time to tip his cowboy hat and leave, but Rayna grabbed his arm before he got to do so. "Thanks again, Luke."

"Nah, it was nothing. See you... around." His tone signaled he probably wouldn't be so eager to volunteer to cover for Deacon again in the future. She couldn't blame him.

Once Luke had disappeared from view, she turned to Deacon. "You're okay?"

"Yeah." A pause. "Ray, I—"

"No, Deacon. Just... no."

She started walking away, and he jogged after her. The crowd was dense, causing him to bump into a few people while trying to keep up with her.

"Baby, wait."

"No!"

She realized she'd yelled when people turned around to stare at them. She reluctantly slowed her pace so he could walk by her side, and they would stop drawing attention.

"Baby, could we at least talk?"

They didn't need to, she knew the script by heart. They had played this particular scene a few times before. "You can't keep doing this. You can't disappear like that and expect everything to be back to normal when you decide to show up again."

"I know. I'm really sorry."

The worst was she knew he meant it. He just couldn't help it. He'd missed rehearsals, recording sessions. It was the first time he'd missed a show.

"You can't keep doing this to _yourself_," she said, softer this time.

"I _know_."

She took a deep breath. "What happened?"

When he failed to answer, she didn't push it. She wasn't sure she wanted to know. Instead, he told her, "I've been thinking, Ray. You keep telling me I should talk to your friend Coleman, and I think I will."

"You think you will?"

Promises. He was an expert at making them, he didn't have a good track record when it came to _keeping_ them. This one, however, was different. This one was Deacon acknowledging he needed outside help, and it had never happened before.

"I _will_," he assured her.

They had reached the entrance of the restricted backstage area, and Rayna grabbed the pass hanging around her neck. She showed it to the security guard who let her through with a nod. As Deacon tried to follow, the guard stopped him.

"Can I see your pass, sir?"

"I... forgot it."

She sighed. _Of course_. For a second, she considered leaving him there.

"He's with me," she told the guard. Deacon mouthed a "thank you" as he caught up with her.

"I'm with you?" he asked in feigned innocence.

Rayna rolled her eyes. He smiled then, her favorite Deacon's smile, and she knew she shouldn't have smiled back. Because she wasn't supposed to let him off the hook so easily. He didn't deserve to be left of the hook so easily. To hold him accountable was the only way to help him.

But she smiled back. She smiled back, and called him an idiot, and before she realized, he was kissing her. Whatever anger she'd felt never stood a chance against the relief of having him back. Safe and sound. The dread she'd convinced herself she didn't feel lifted off as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his neck.

"You're really going to talk to Cole?"

"Cross my heart."

She chuckled at that.

Now she wished it would have been Deacon on that Ferris wheel with her. He would have grabbed her hand, and asked her if she was okay, and alone together on top of the world, they would have listened to George Strait sing about them.

_Our love is unconditional  
We knew it from the start_


End file.
